Linux Songs Poems

Fortune: 491 - 500 of 719 from Linux Songs Poems

Linux Songs Poems: 491 of 719

Stayed in bed all morning just to pass the time,
There's something wrong here, there can be no more denying,
One of us is changing, or maybe we just stopped trying,
And it's too late, baby, now, it's too late,
Though we really did try to make it,
Something inside has died and I can't hide and I just can't fake it...
It used to be so easy living here with you,
You were light and breezy and I knew just what to do
Now you look so unhappy and I feel like a fool.
There'll be good times again for me and you,
But we just can't stay together, don't you feel it too?
But I'm glad for what we had and that I once loved you...
But it's too late baby...
It's too late, now darling, it's too late...
-- Carol King, "Tapestry"

Linux Songs Poems: 492 of 719

Step back, unbelievers!
Or the rain will never come.
Somebody keep the fire burning, someone come and beat the drum.
You may think I'm crazy, you may think that I'm insane,
But I swear to you, before this day is out,
you folks are gonna see some rain!

Linux Songs Poems: 493 of 719

Strange things are done to be number one
In selling the computer The Druids were entrepreneurs,
IBM has their strategem And they built a granite box
Which steadily grows acuter, It tracked the moon, warned of monsoons,
And Honeywell competes like Hell, And forecast the equinox
But the story's missing link Their price was right, their future
Is the system old at Stonemenge sold bright,
By the firm of Druids, Inc. The prototype was sold;
From Stonehenge site their bits and byte
Would ship for Celtic gold.
The movers came to crate the frame;
It weighed a million ton!
The traffic folk thought it a joke The man spoke true, and thus to you
(the wagon wheels just spun); A warning from the ages;
"They'll nay sell that," the foreman Your stock will slip if you can't ship
spat, What's in your brochure's pages.
"Just leave the wild weeds grow; See if it sells without the bells
"It's Druid-kind, over-designed, And strings that ring and quiver;
"And belly up they'll go." Druid repute went down the chute
Because they couldn't deliver.
-- Edward C. McManus, "The Computer at Stonehenge"

Linux Songs Poems: 494 of 719

Suffering alone exists, none who suffer;
The deed there is, but no doer thereof;
Nirvana is, but no one is seeking it;
The Path there is, but none who travel it.
-- "Buddhist Symbolism", Symbols and Values

Linux Songs Poems: 495 of 719

Sun in the night, everyone is together,
Ascending into the heavens, life is forever.
-- Brand X, "Moroccan Roll/Sun in the Night"

Linux Songs Poems: 496 of 719

/ SUN of them wants to use you,
\
/ \ / SUN of them wants to be used by you,
/ / / / //
// // / SUN of them wants to abuse you,
/ / / /
/ \ SUN of them wants to be abused ...
\
/
-- Eurythmics

Linux Songs Poems: 497 of 719

Sweet sixteen is beautiful Bess,
And her voice is changing -- from "No" to "Yes".

Linux Songs Poems: 498 of 719

System/3! System/3!
See how it runs! See how it runs!
Its monitor loses so totally!
It runs all its programs in RPG!
It's made by our favorite monopoly!
System/3!

Linux Songs Poems: 499 of 719

T: One big monster, he called TROLL.
He don't rock, and he don't roll;
Drink no wine, and smoke no stogies.
He just Love To Eat Them Roguies.
-- The Roguelet's ABC

Linux Songs Poems: 500 of 719

Take a look around you, tell me what you see,
A girl who thinks she's ordinary lookin' she has got the key.
If you can get close enough to look into her eyes
There's something special right behind the bitterness she hides.
And you're fair game,
You never know what she'll decide, you're fair game,
Just relax, enjoy the ride.
Find a way to reach her, make yourself a fool,
But do it with a little class, disregard the rules.
'Cause this one knows the bottom line, couldn't get a date.
The ugly duckling striking back, and she'll decide her fate.
(chorus)
The ones you never notice are the ones you have to watch.
She's pleasant and she's friendly while she's looking at your crotch.
Try your hand at conversation, gossip is a lie,
And sure enough she'll take you home and make you wanna die.
(chorus)
-- Crosby, Stills, Nash, "Fair Game"